Hurry up and wait.

As the bus pulled in, she searched the cars waiting.  There were several cars lined up around the circle outside the high school.  It was a late game in a town about an hour away so by the time the bus got to the school it was later than usual.  The bus stopped and all the students grabbed their equipment, lined up and got off the bus running to get in the cars waiting.  Cyndi yelled over, “Hey!  Need a ride?”.  “Nope.  I'm all set thanks!”  She walked over and sat down on the bench outside the front doors.  It didn’t take long for the cars to make their pickup.  In no time, the parking lot was emptied.  This time it would be different.  He was just running late and would be here within an hour.  Damn sales job.  He was always late.  She always kept waiting.  When it got this late he would screech in, roll down the window and yell “Hey sweetheart, hop in.  Sorry it took so long I was with a customer.”  She would run over, get in and not speak the entire ride home.  He would promise that next time would be different.  Sure.  Next time he wouldn’t smell like alcohol either.

This was the final straw.  She was always left waiting.  No more.  She started walking.  It was dark but she knew the way.  She’d done it before.  If it was nice weather it wasn’t so bad.  This time it was really dark and it had begun to rain.  Maybe he would see she wasn’t at the school and go look for her.  He’d pull up next to her and tell her to get in the car.  This was of course the absolute latest he’d been.  Sometimes mom would pull in for the pickup but not too often.  If she did it usually meant she had an idea that he wasn’t going to show up.  But, she was not there either.  

When she’d been walking for what seemed like an eternity, the skies really opened up.  Now it was a full blown thunder storm.  She walked over by the ball fields and sat in the dugout.  Now it was about half way home and she could keep dry until the rain let up.  The nice part was she could see cars.  There were not too many.  If his car went by she could run to the street, he’d see her and he would stop.  

She was getting tired and she was completely drenched.  The rain finally stopped and she started walking again.  She figured it best if she went down the main street.  It was well lit.  It was now so late that she noticed all the businesses were closed on the side of the roads.  The only light on was the local watering hole. When she strode by she decided to go to the window and glance in.  Sure enough, he was sitting at the bar.  She rapped on the window and he glanced over.   She did something she had never done before.  She flipped him off.  Put that middle finger high up in the air, began to cry and walked away.  Walking gave her a chance to think about all the times he had been late.  Since she could remember he had not been on time for anything.  It was always an excuse.  The most recent had been a football game.  The big game was coming.  All the football players were given something from their mothers.  The cheerleaders were given a corsage from their fathers.  The excitement was building everyone was excited.  The day came and as each person was called up, their parent was called up with them to present them with their flowers.  Her name was called.  Mom walked toward her and with a big smile, pinned the corsage on her and gave her a kiss and hug.  She hugged her back and smiled a big smile.  There was no reason to act surprised.  To have cried would have been useless.  Mom was there.  She handled it graciously and one would have never guessed that something was amiss.  Later, her fellow cheerleader said she was sorry.  She had not realized that her friend’s  dad had passed and that they both had something in common.  “Oh no Chris.  He has not passed.  I am sorry about your dad though.  My dad isn’t here because…”  Her voice faltered and she gave the excuse they had to get going because the game was starting and their coach was waving them over.  

She was almost home when he pulled up beside her and yelled at her to get in the car.  She said “no” and kept going.  He drove slowly alongside her, yelling out the window.  She decided it was probably best to get in the car.  No need to make a scene.  They did not speak the rest of the ride home.  She went in, went to bed.  Come morning light, it was once again, as though nothing had happened.  Alcohol can do that to a person.

Over the years, there had been many times that he had not shown up when he was supposed to.  She grew used to the excuses and eventually stopped asking him.  High school turned to adulthood.  Still, although she would know there was an event coming up she found herself not asking.  He often would come to her and want to know why she hadn’t mentioned things.  Simple things, such as the time she was getting married.  She saw no reason to ask him to walk her down the aisle.  He did of course show up.  He was late and smelled of alcohol.  She smiled again and pretended it was part of the plan.  When the justice of peace asked “who gives this woman?”  He chimed up loudly “I do!  Definitely!”  He was so proud and stood right next to her.  He all but shoved himself past her mom who was standing up for her as her maid of honor.    It became the family joke.   “Remember when dad was the maid of honor?”  There was the time of the birth of her first child.  No show again.  This was fine.  Imagine her surprise when the nurse said that her father had tried to come on the floor of the hospital and had been trying to reach his daughter who had just had his grandchild.  She thought to herself about how it must have felt for him to wait and to find that there was no one waiting for him on the other side of the security door.  He had taught her that she did not need to count on him.  She had learned so much from him.  Their relationship was no longer one of father-daughter but rather strangers.  The tables had turned.  They would connect only through phone messages.  One waiting for the other and the other taking their time responding. “It’s your turn to hurry up and wait.” she smiled to herself.